


Late Night Appraisal

by lovima



Series: The Galactic Aesthetician [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Thrawn Series - Timothy Zahn (2017)
Genre: Art, Barebacking, M/M, Mind Reading, This Is STUPID, nice pet you got there thrawn it would be a shame if something were to happen to it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:20:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25210765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovima/pseuds/lovima
Summary: Thrawn and Vader appraise Sith artifacts in the name of art (and a subtle way of trying to suss out the weaknesses in Sith ideology).
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker | Darth Vader/Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo
Series: The Galactic Aesthetician [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1826599
Comments: 1
Kudos: 28





	Late Night Appraisal

Thrawn sighed, opening up the latch and lifting the terrarium lid. Inside, the ysalamir lounged under the warm glow her infrared light, blinking pointedly at him with her compound eyes. She didn't complain as Thrawn gently scooped her up with an outstretched palm, cradling the lizard loosely in his arm's crook.

"This may be a mortal mistake," Thrawn told her. The ysalamir flicked his tongue at him, tilting her head up into his palm. Thrawn liked to think she understood him sometimes, his most personal confidant in the heart's matters. A foolish belief, but alas a self-indulgent and welcome one.

"Do you think the Dark Lord keeps to a punctual schedule?" He joked, stepping through his bedroom into the living quarters allowing the lizard to claw her way up his arm and perch around his shoulders.  
His living quarters were immaculately systematized for the Sith Lord's arrival. Each piece of his sizable collection was perfectly dusted and on display. It was doubtful if the Sith would ever appreciate it, but Thrawn saw it as an inevitable move of assertion. The real viewing was to be projected from his central holo table. The only way he was able to acquire any authentic sith artifacts (except for Vader himself, of course) for them both to discuss and pick apart one after another.

There was still a possibility that the Sith would not agree to it, or give him the right answers he was seeking. Most of all, Thrawn had hoped for the camaraderie, eagerly interested in conversing with the sith in a light where they weren't actively encouraged to go for each other's throats.

Thrawn spent some time re-arranging a few pieces, dusting off the minuscule areas of dust that the sanitation droid forgo to clean. Red eyes trailed to the chrono on the wall; it was just five minutes before the scheduled meeting.  
The ysalamir's tongue tickled his ear, "I think it is time for you to disappear." Thrawn told her. "It is a shame, but I doubt Vader himself wouldn't want you around for the viewing." The lizard huffed ever so slightly in response, but didn't complain as Thrawn placed her back into the terrarium.

Back in the living area, Thrawn debated pouring himself a drink. Typically it would not be considered abnormal, but he didn't know if it would insult the Sith by committing a faux par. In the end, he opted for a tumbler of Corellian brandy. The glass was halfway to his lips when the buzzer on the door rang, indicating that his only and most anticipated guest had arrived.

Before Thrawn could as much as tell the internal system to let them in pneumatics in the door screeched as it was slowly forced open, a red intruder alert blinked briefly Thrawn swiftly disabled it. For now, he would have to do with the manual override until it was fixed. Thrawn watched as the dark bulk of Vader lumbered into the confines of his living space. The sith came to a stop directly in the room's center as if expecting something to jump out at him. A moment passed as he seemingly scanned the room before his helmet turned to Thrawn with just the tiniest tilt of acknowledgment. Thrawn's door, had so far, not been mentioned.

"Good evening, Admiral." He greeted, moving to stalk around the table, stopping to run his hand over a displayed piece of Dathomirian pottery.

Thrawn wallowed thickly, acknowledging that he had just shut himself in a room alone with a Sith Lord. A formidable task to achieve, and more so to survive it. Thrawn was feeling lucky.  
"My Lord." He took a sip of his brandy, suddenly thankful for its psychoactive effects. "I am deeply honored to be graced with your company tonight."

Vader ignored his pleasantries, "Shall we get started?" He asked, not even looking up at the Admiral as he explored the room.  
The Sith moved on to a Neimodian abacus Thrawn had received as a gift from an officer he did not care to remember. The chiss watched Vader move the top row of ivory beads idly from one end to the other with unanticipated precision. The abacus was, of course, no longer used for anything but ornamental purposes. Just like the Neimodian caste system, the beads of higher worth were themselves made of pricier luxury material. Simple wood represented the workers, and obsidian for the ruling class. Thrawn had to stop himself from informing the sith of just that.

"Certainly my lord," Thrawn almost had to keep himself from stuttering from the pang of disappointment. What did he actually expect to happen? For the sith to ravish him right here amongst his faithful aggregation of art? To follow on from that night, where he dropped to the lowest amount of flattery to not have his larynx crushed for re-purposing art from the Emperor himself?

Vader turned to face Thrawn, tilting his head, "I am waiting, Admiral, or would you prefer if I were to access your library for us?" His voice had a hint of amusement as he gestured to the still-smoldering door panel behind him. Acknowledgment noted.

"I would rather you not," Thrawn answered sincerely, having polished off his drink in one fell swallow. He pressed a button on the underside of the holotable, starting off the in-depth projection of his digital gallery displaying the night's first pabulum.

A minuscule tilt of The Dark Lord's head told him the hologram had been acknowledged. "A seed of rage." Was the almost immediate reply. "A subterranean device, ultimately used to drive those surrounding it insane. I do not see nor know the need for its aesthetic purpose." His tone fully implied that he did, in fact, know something. "Do not ask me about it again."

Thrawn had known all this and had picked this specific artifact entirely on purpose, mainly to make sure that Vader was willing to precipitate.

So far, so good.

Thrawn hummed to fill in the silence, observing the artifact's sharp tapered ends along its symmetrical design. It had been familiar with what he had analyzed so far. He had glimpsed similar patterns on the rare embroidery gracing the Emperor's robes. It told of discipline, it's restricted shape sharing that balance with a level of raw, volatile power.

"Was it used to wage war?" He asked. The Chiss had no need for weaponized mind control devices. They were an inclosed, homogenous society, all control was done with a firm, fair hand of the justice system. There was a place for all, including himself...once.

Vader tapped the edge of the table once as if in thought, "War is a child of conflict. The Sith see conflict as a way of moving forward." He stated, cryptically.

Thrawn hummed again, actually mulling over the response. He couldn't say he didn't understand the sentiment; he just didn't agree with it. Chiss society was very much based on a non-aggressive approach unless deemed necessary. Such a notion would have been quickly dismissed, a practice of such warfare would most notably be met with...exile.

Thrawn decided to move on to the next piece. The projection clicked into view.

The Sith beside him did not comment for a long time to the point Thrawn feared he had fallen asleep standing up. "It is self-explanatory."

Vader's observation was correct; the image depicted a mural sported two Sith warriors quite literally tearing each other apart. Assessing their identical dress, Thrawn could easily deduct that the two were part of the same order, or caste. The lack of ornaments on their robes and lightness of stature indicated beings in the earlier stages of their life. Perhaps a ritual battle of sorts, just like ones he would precipitate in during his youth, albeit not as bloody.

"I cannot interpret the bottom inscription, however, am I correct that this is a test?" Thrawn pressed on. His memories took him to cold nights training with other cadets camping by the roots of the endless ice glaciers of Csilla. He had broken a few noses there, and even broke one himself but never witnessed the violence depicted until years later. Then, he had faced real combat.

Vader moved closer, seemingly inspecting the inscription, "Yes. A test of power. The loser pays with their life, as the ultimate sacrifice. The winner gains victory, and the freedom to leave their master and take apprentices of their own." He explained, tracing the bottom description with a pointed finger.

Thrawn knew all about sacrifice. That's why he was here. Dancing around beasts for the sake of survival.

"Has the emperor ever...trialed you in such a way?" The words left his mouth involuntarily; he almost winced as out the corner of his eye; he saw the Dark Lord bristle with sudden rage. A cold silence fell over the room, it felt off until Thrawn realized that Vader was holding his breath.

When the Dark Lord spoke, it was as low as a whisper. "You do not know of the trials I have surpassed to stand before you as I am, Admiral. You will never know them." The air around them was shuddering, adding to the sudden minatory turn in the atmosphere.

His bulk drifted closer, looming over Thrawn in what would have been a gesture of sheer intimidation if it weren't for the ghost of a caress along his nape. The touch unmistakeably mirrored the sensation from their last confusing encounter at Coruscant Palace, carrying the same untold promise. "Look upon me, and make your own judgment."

Thrawn swallowed, it was time for the next piece. The holographic image dissipated before a new one took its place with a fresh wave of blue light. Neider of the two paid it any attention.

Thrawn turned to face the sith lord who was appraising him instead, his gloved hands were folded over his chest. He didn't know where to look, so he stared into the mask's untelling red visor. Vader didn't say anything, just watched, his breathing mingling with the hologram's electric buzz. Thrawn knew he had, once again, lost control of the encounter.

The touch on his nape had slid further down, encompassing his shoulders in a perfect mirror of an embrace. He had not been embraced in a very long time, since he left the Ascendancy, to be exact.  
Back then, it hurt so much more, the greetings and farewells adding fuel to the flame. Later, alone and stranded on an unknown planet, Thrawn wished they had never said goodbye. It would have quenched the sting of separation just enough to make it easier.  
The memory broke something, bringing up the crushing loneliness of when he had first left the Ascendancy behind. The touch still lingered on his shoulders, more ponderous and warmer than before, it dulled the pain, he was here now.

"This was simpler to see through you than you give yourself credit for Admiral, are you losing your touch?"

Thrawn furrowed his brow, fainting confusion, "I do not understand." It was true, he didn't. The sentiment brought on by this meeting had been unnaturally ineffable.

"You had foolishly arranged this meeting to dissect me, layer by layer like one of your pretentious, overpriced junk you drag in for everyone to gawp at. Instead, I have seen inside of you, seen your fears, your frustrations, and, most importantly, your wants." He walked closer, moving in circles around him. Thrawn felt the fluttering cape's brush on the back of his shins before the feeling was gone again. "You can't hide from me, Thrawn." The statement told too much.

Thrawn should have seen it coming, Vader was not a fool. He had been too brash, and now there was a possibility that he had offended the Sith.  
It wasn't fear, no, but a strong current of a spiral as if loosing a great anticipated battle. He had hugely miscalculated this move, but not all was lost, he needed to retreat before he paid the ultimate price.

One part of his scrambled for what to say, what right level of diplomacy would suffice to calm Sith enough to forget this whole encounter. That way, he could get them on the right track to conclude the evening as planned.

Thrawn's other, logical train of thought was already taking steps to calculate the time it would take for him to ultimately asphyxiate. From general knowledge, it would take roughly two to five minutes with an ordinary humanoid, but he knew from whispers between the empire's elite; it was faster due to the panic response.  
Getting to his room took a shorter time than that, there, he could survive the encounter if his legs weren't crushed in Vader's force hold along with his precious windpipe. Furthermore, endangering the life of the ysalamir, who he had regrettably never named, seemed like a cruelty he couldn't deal in the last moments of his life.

Thrawn was almost on the verge of panicking until Vader hummed behind him, placing a heavy hand on his shoulder. "The way of the sith is not all set in pain and suffering Admiral." His voice was lower, smoother as if calming a startled animal. "Passion, it gives life purpose, eventually ending in the liberation through the force."

Thick fingers slid over the nape of his neck, followed by a much warmer sensation, akin to a kiss. The danger of the situation was gone, almost unnaturally. It was replaced by a newfound sort of tension Thrawn hadn't felt for countless standard years. The edges of his vision felt fuzzy, the glow from the overheated holotable just that tad bit too bright.

Thrawn sighed despite himself, leaning back a little into the Dark Lord's embrace. "I do not think I have the artifact to represent that particular part of Sith doctrine." His clothes were starting to feel stifling. The feeling of oppression was back now as a whisper upon his skin, becoming a palpable touch of skin-on-skin contact like the soft, tentative feel of a lover. He let himself savor it as it fueled his anticipation.

"I suppose not." Vader's hand slid idly through his hair. "But there are other ways of in which it can be demonstrated." He finished tugging the at the strands, hard. Thrawn gasped in sudden pain as hot, sharp phantom bites ravaged his vulnerable throat. His arousal twitched in his pants in response to the rough handling.

"And how do you plan on showing me that, my Lord?" Thrawn gauded, voice sounding all to breathless for his liking. His tone must have made all the difference. Thrawn abruptly found himself getting shoved forward over the edge of the table. Vader's arm, hard as a rancor's claw, wrapped around his waist, keeping them in contact.

Thrawn was not much of a romantic, but he couldn't help yearning for a softer touch. He ached to be taken to bed, even when knowing that his lover could crush his skull with the flick of his wrist. The re-vibrating chuckle behind him confirmed that the Sith Lord had heard his plight.

"Pathetic," Vader whispered harshly, mockingly, the angular line of his helmet dug painfully into Thrawn's cheek. His hand slid down Thrawn's taut front, cupping him harshly through the thick fabric of his uniform. "But, I am more than tempted to humor you this time, Admiral."

Thrawn tried to resist the full-body shudder hearing the latch of his belt coming undone. "Thank you, my Lord." He sagged a little in the hold as Vader's hand wandered under his shirt and tunic, popping open the buttons in the process. The bites on Thrawn's neck softened to a feather-light brush, drawing a bearly audible whimper past his lips. Despairingly, he canted his hips forward into Vader's hand.

The Sith moved back abruptly "Enough." he stated simply, and Thrawn was pulled up by the scruff of his tunic, his stiff collar tightened; as a result, muffling the grunt of surprise. His polished boots squeaked against the pristine tile, cheeks heating with baffled chagrin. He let himself be dragged, mostly out of sheer curiosity. Partially to the resulting ache in his loins due to the impromptu manhandling.

Vader didn't comment, his hold was unrelenting as he dragged the chiss across the room and in through the threshold of his sleeping quarters. There, he was unceremoniously deposited face-down on the bed. He just had enough time to plant his feet on the floor before the hard bulk of the sith lord crowded up against his behind.

Leather-clad hands slid up his thigs and kneaded the soft rump of his ass, coaxing a sharp needy noise from his throat. Thrawn grappled blindly behind him to steer them lower, only for his hands to be twisted and held against the small of his back. He shouldn't have liked that, but he did, arousal tickled his belly as Vader tugged his jodhpurs and underwear down in one go.

Frustrated, Thrawn grunted into the covers. The phantom touches returned enforce, raking lines of fire from his collarbones down to his navel, just skimming over the root of his leaking cock. His arms strained against the force retaining them together, hips hopelessly grinding into the mattress as Vader's large fingers skimmed over his taint. He could finish just like this, before the sith even got a chance to fuck him.

Thrawn made a mental note to move the ysalamir closer to his bed in the future. Such an addition would undoubtedly even out the playing field.

The thought had been a mistake. The ministrations stopped immediately, Vader's hands left his ass. Thrawn thurst his hips following the movement until a sharp, vice-like pinch to his hip stopped him.  
"Why is this here?" Vader demanded, his cold tone shifting the chiss partially back to reality.

Reluctantly, Thrawn turned his head just enough to see the ysalamir staring back at them behind pristine glass. She was utterly still, an evolutionary development of the species. He joined her in the endeavor, freezing in Vader's murderous aura.

This wasn't part of his plan. "Don't hurt her." He said with the most authoritative tone he could have mustered in his current undignified position, "She is not here for you." He added, knowing that the sith would catch his meaning. "She is...important."

Whether Vader elected not to do so out of convenience, or simply believed him was up for debate. "You speak with sincerity." Thrawn breathed a sigh of relief as the Sith lowered his hand. "I will grant your request, for now."

The sith's gaze was back on him, he could feel it, it burned like the coldest blizzard with the harshest winds reaching to strip his body down to its very soul. It was as if every fiber of his being was being picked apart, every nerve, cell, and atom imprinted by something undefinably incorporeal.  
Thrawn's skin was on fire. He squirmed with useless abandon, desperate for any friction he could get from just the covers and his disheveled tunic uncomfortably bunched up under his chest.

His squirming didn't stop as Vader's hips pushed against his ass, "Curious, you yarn for company so deeply you cling on to something so insubstantial." The sith said idly, gripping his hip, "You never cease to surprise me." His thumb traced circles on the chiss' overheated skin.

The gentle grip turned bruising, and Thrawn gasped in surprise as he was flipped over onto his back. The covers were soft, and in his oneiric state, it felt like he could sink into them forever.  
He focused on Vader's hulking shape hovering above him, "However, I am slightly disappointed..." the sith droned on, pushing Thrawn's knees up to his chest, "...I expected you to have more tact."

Thrawn bearly heard him, moaning in relief as the sith gave his prick one sloppy tug, gathering up a fistful of precum. His moan turned into a weak wine as the same hand designedly swiped a sleek trail over his entrance. He missed this. He was aching so badly that it was bordering on the phantasmal feeling spice addicts would rave about. The slight pinch of a gauntlet at his exposed thigh assured it was undeniably real.

Predictably, he wasn't given much warning as two fingers were shoved inside of him. The pain pooled into arousal as the digits inside him curled and all but raked over his prostate. Thrawn's eyes rolled back towards the headboard as the motion was repeated, again and again. The pressure was unrelenting, he moaned in exhilaration, pushing his hips back at the intrusion, seeking more. Thrawn hadn't had it in so long.

Vader's voice was harsher than he had ever heard before, "Your need borders on pain Admiral. Is this the first time anyone has taken you to bed since the exile?" The sith slid a large palm over his ankle, a subtle movement, like a learned habit. Conceivably with another lover?

Thrawn bit back a whimper when the fingers where pulled out harshly. He did ache. And he was a mess, uniform askew, boots in the air with his ass entirely on display. His cock twitched in anticipation. Glancing above the half-removed jodhpurs clinging between his legs Thrawn just about saw Vader fumble with something below his belt.  
Thrawn wanted to touch him, "Please, Let me-" with great effort, he was almost able to lift himself onto his elbows. He wanted to see.

Vader pushed him back down with enough force to knock the wind out of his lungs. "No"

Thrawn fell back with a solid thump, chest heaving. The ceiling lamps above him glowed from the little heat produced as if they were swirling galaxies.  
The blunt head of Vader's cock prodded at his slicked up hole and pushed, inch by searing inch until soft armor weave scraped Thrawn's trembling thighs. His desperate noises mixed with the Sith Lord's low moan. It was inescapable, he could barely breathe as Vader rocked back into him in tandem.

The rhythm annihilated any coherent thought. Ultimately, Thrawn surrendered, rolling his hips in time with each ramming thrust. His sweaty palms fisted the sheets to anchor himself to reality as cruses and moans fell unbidden from his lips with each delicious stretch and slide of Vader's cock.  
The sith was everywhere. Thrawn gritted his teeth as invisible hands raked over his sides and his straining chest. Vader's touches extended over his neck, straight for the delicate patch of his skin, right below his ear. He had loved being bitten there, and Vader abused it in abundance.

Each push took him closer to the end, both of them moving in one fell motion, closer and closer to completion. Thrawn's back arched at a perfectly aimed thrust, ion torpedoes and supernovas exploded behind his eyelids like a stim induced hallucination. It was all too much, the pressure, Vader's hands clamping down on his ankles, his voice.

Talking, Vader was still talking. Had been this entire time, "...let me set you free." One of his hands, now warm, closed around his prick, stroking in time with their movements.

A large thumb pressed at his leaking tip and Thrawn came hard, his abdominal muscles twitching and flexing with each of the sith's fluid thrusts. The heat patterns above him swam and twirled in glowing vortexes, pulsing and twisting with each wave of ecstasy. Above him, Vader stilled and, after a few slightly more labored breaths, pulled out with care Thrawn was thankful for.

He didn't have the energy to actually get up, so he lay there, basking in the afterglow and ebbing emotions of his climax. A blurry outline of Vader moving in the corner of his eye caught his attention.

"You are the fist," Thrawn told the sith, managing a faint, blissed-out smile. He must have looked a state, while Vader had retained his default appearance without a scratch.

The sith came closer, cocking his helmet to the side. "What?"

"Before, you inquired about my sexual endeavors since my exile. You are the only one who has been...acceptable." That and Eli. Maybe Eli, if the human would ever forgive him for personally manipulating his career.

Vader just stared at Thrawn, "I am flattered, Admiral." then turned back at the ysalamir, "Next time, get rid of that thing, or I will do it for you."

An empty threat. Thrawn knew Vader had no need for such petty squabbles. Still, he would find her a new temporary location, once next time came. "Your demands have been noted, my Lord."

The unmistakable feeling of a languid kiss blossomed on his lips, sliding down to his collarbone. Thrawn smiled and closed his eyes, just for a moment. The crook in the smirk against his skin reminded him of someone he had met a long time ago. He would cerebrate on that later.

When Thrawn opened his eyes again, Vader had taken his leave.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I hope you enjoyed this...installation. 
> 
> Anyway, what I really wanted to put here was just how I ended up stuck with the ysalamir. This isn't integral to the story in any way.
> 
> So we all know the lizard in this is just like sort of...hanging about in this. But there is a darker truth to it. You see, the ysalamir was originally going to be the narrator of this story. But like that would make no sense? Also it would be both creepily voyeuristic. But by that point I had already written it in and was like "Well I guess the lizard is staying." 
> 
> But then I wrote myself into more of a kerfuffle. Because the lizard was in Thrawn's room. And just like I know you are thinking "Why did you not just re-write the story?" And you know what? I could have done that. I just didn't think of it, and I liked the lizard.  
> So the ysalamir is in the room that our two guys are going to snuggle in and I was frantically googling the force bubble diameter it creates. Anyway I found out its 10m in diamater so I guess that like 5m in each direction from the point of the lizard. So Thrawn's room is pretty big in this, or he just has the lizard as far from his bed as possible so its little foot taps down wake him up from slumber. 
> 
> Ramble over.


End file.
